“The school,” she blurts out angrily. “He got it from the school.”
I close my eyes, shaking my head slowly. This is where I was leading her, this is what I wanted, but I’m disappointed in her for following me. Some small part of me had hoped she was smarter than that.
When I open my eyes, I reach out to stop the recording. I’m surprised to see that I have three missed texts, but I ignore them for now.
“Tish,” I scold quietly, “you are going to want to rethink everything you’re doing here today.”
“Of course you’d say that. You’re Trey’s agent.”
“I’m not telling you that as his agent. I’m telling you as someone who lives in this world and has seen how it works. You do not want to go forward with this story.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not accusing Trey of being a dick anymore. Now you’re accusing the University of California, Los Angeles of gross misconduct. You’re involving the NCAA, bringing them to UCLA’s doorstep to scour through their program looking for any wrong doing. It’ll be a shitstorm. It just got so much bigger than you planned and there will be no way to keep your name and face out of it. Trey isn’t going to pay your blackmail. I’ll tell you that right now upfront. So you’ll have to go forward with this story. You’ll have to tell the world that UCLA funded your abortion and open up both yourself and the school to investigation. They’ll want rock hard proof that it actually happened. Medical records. An ultrasound showing you were pregnant. A report from your doctor confirming the pregnancy.”
“They can’t ask for my medical records!”
“They’ll subpoena them, and if you won’t produce them, if you can’t prove that what you’re saying is the truth, then they’ll sue you, and I guarantee you, you will not make enough money selling your story to the tabloids to cover the legal costs you’ll incur fighting that lawsuit. You’re David going against Goliath and you don’t have a stone to throw.”
She looks at me with anger and fear in her eyes. True desperation that makes me wonder why she was doing this in the first place. She wasn’t committed to it. She didn’t even have her story straight when she sat down to talk to me, so why? Why was she going along with this?
Tish’s eyes brim with tears as she looks away, her lower lip trembling. “I was in love with him,” she whispers. “I was so in love with him. And I tried to get over him because I knew he didn’t love me, he doesn’t love anybody, but I couldn’t. Every time he came over I hoped it would be to stay. I hoped he’d change his mind, but he never did.” She wipes angrily at her cheek where a tear has escaped. “Then he got drafted and he graduated and I never heard from him again. Just like that. Poof. We weren’t even friends. I was just something to fuck.”
Her voice cracks, her face crumbling as the tremor in her lips becomes a full scale quake intent on reducing her fa?ade to rubble in her hands. I want to reach for her but I doubt it’d help. She doesn’t want comfort from me or anyone. She doesn’t even want revenge, not really. I don’t think she knows what she wants. Maybe for it to stop hurting. Maybe it’s as simple as that.
“I’m very sorry,” I tell her softly. “I can imagine how much that hurts.”
“Yeah,” she chuckles bitterly. She sniffs, wiping at her eyes with both hands. “It sucks.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
“Whatever you do, don’t ever fall in love. It’s bullshit.”
“That’s been my experience.”
She nods, not meeting my eyes.
I take the hint that our meeting is over. I quickly and quietly gather my folders, even the fake ones with real names on the outside and spreadsheets full of gibberish on the inside, and stuff them back into my bag along with my notepad, pen, and phone.
When I stand to leave she looks up at me with red rimmed eyes.
“I’m not telling the story to anyone,” she promises. “It’s a lie. All of it. I was never pregnant.”
“Thank you for being honest.”
“Please don’t tell people I did this. I—I don’t know why I did it. I was angry and when his cousin called me he got me all riled up and I lost my shit. I should never have agreed.”
“We won’t be telling anyone about this, trust me. It doesn’t benefit Trey at all to have this story break, whether you’re confirming it or denying it.”
“What about David?” she asks nervously. “What should I do if he calls me again?”
I shake my head once before heading for the door. “You let me worry about David.”
When I get outside I turn the ringer on my phone back to full volume. It immediately goes insane, text messages and voicemails vying for my attention, but in the thick of it is a phone call. One that’s been coming in over and over again.
“Demarcus, what’s up?”
“Did you know, Sloane?” he demands harshly. “Did you know this was happening and you didn’t bother telling me?”